


Purgatory

by lornemalvo



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Mostly Fluff, it'll be more than one chapter, this was a prompt from someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 02:21:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19308679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lornemalvo/pseuds/lornemalvo
Summary: Crowley gets sent to watch Aziraphale, in regards to suspicious deliveries. Lucky for him, its just books. And he and Zira had been together for years. In fact, they meet every Tuesday and Thursday for tea. Sometimes on Sunday for brunch.





	Purgatory

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!!! i took prompt requests and this is the one i liked the most. please god let me know if i should continue writing more of this lmao. chapter one is a bit short because i wanted to see if i could even write the characters, but if y'all like it ill keep going.
> 
> this has not been proof read!

For fucks sake. Going to headquarters was probably the biggest waste of Crowleys time. There really wasn't a point, if you take into consideration that he sent in notes every few years on new ways he turned humans against each other. Most of the time he didn't have to do anything, he hadn't really done anything in the last five or so years, save for littering or making phone chargers break after 6 weeks. 

Plus— It was goddamn damp in every square foot of hell. Its not meant to be a comfortable place but the swamp-ass was killing him, and his hair was frizzing at the end. Humans had come far with hair products, but not enough for literal hell. Crowley sighed and curled his front bang around his finger, bumping the door open to Beelzebub's office with his hip. 

The flies buzzing around their head always made Crowley almost gag, Yeah, being a demon did mean rot and disgust, but fuck at least he got to be a snake instead of a rotting corpse that was permanently stuck in the halfway point of being a human and worm food. 

“Updates?” God, a fly almost flew into their mouth. Vom.

“Not really. Nothing since that social media platform that bans anything with the word ‘gay’ in it. Why did you even make me do that? You're homophobic now?” Maggots on the desk too. 

“No. Thought that it might cause some unrest and a fight. I give it another few months until we have an actual uprising. Not the point of why you're here.”

“Mm. And that point is…?”

“That angel. Aziraphale. He owns a book store near your quarters?”

Fuck that even more than the flies and maggots crawling on his shoes, bringing Angel up for no reason. What does Satan want with him anymore.

“Yeah. I think I saw him trolling around the park a few months ago. Same as ever. No sword.”

“We need you to watch him. The archangel Gabriel has been seen there multiple times in the last weeks. Packages being delivered at all hours of the night. Very suspicious activity. The people upstairs might be planning something. You've worked in the past with him, he wont suspect anything if you stop in every once in a while.”

“Yeah. You're probably right. I can stop in, wont even notice a thing. I hate that guy, though. He stinks.”

—

The bookshop was better. Dry, smells like old paper, doesn't fuck with his hair. Fucks sake, this internal monologue has fuck a lot. No flies either, a few moths now and again, but Aziraphale usually took care of those for him. Not that he needed him to. He could kill bugs.

It was always well maintained, too. Never a book out of place. Really never any customers, either. Did Zira ever make money from this place? Doubtful.

Crowley liked how it smelled, how it looked, and especially how the door creaked when it opened. No need for a doorbell when your door is older than you and screams when it’s pushed the tiniest bit. 

And it did its job. The second Crowley slipped into the store Aziraphale poked his head out from one of the stacks of books and gave one of his glowing grins. That smile would always make Crowleys spine twitch and crawl with what could only be described as obscene happiness. 

“Angel.”

“Crowley. I got a first edition of one of the books on my ‘Want’ list! Frivolous wants, I know, but still so exciting.”

“Mmph. Very very very exciting. A headstone for you for the trees killed to make it. Beautifully done there, Zira.”

Books would always be number one for Aziraphale, but god he hoped that he made at least third or fourth place behind sushi and diner coffee. Crowley folded his sunglasses up and tucked them in his pocket, another reason he liked the store. A lot nicer to not have the world seem four shades darker than reality. Better to see Angels hair with. Almost like staring up at the clouds.

“No need for that sort of darkness in the shop, dear. Especially about something that makes me happy. I don't poke fun at your fig trees and rubber plants, do I?”

“Thats true. Tea?”

“In the office.”

He mumbled a thanks in the general direction of the other man, turning his heel to head into Zira’s office to pour a cup. The immaculate china somehow fit into the destruction of the office. Books and papers strewn across every surface available. Pens leaking over tepid and already stained papers. Zira always had a pot of tea waiting for him, a bottle of wine next to it for later, and a mug of cold cocoa next to hit that he had forgotten about. Crowley poured a cup of tea for himself, snapped his fingers so the cocoa was hot again, and headed back out into the foyer. 

Aziraphale was still fingering through the pages of whatever book he had just gotten. On closer inspection it was a copy of Dracula that was practically falling apart, the spine creaking whenever he pressed the covers out too far. Crowley pulled the book away from the angel and replaced it with the white mug he had forgotten about earlier.

“Oh! I had completely forgotten about that. Thank you, darling.”

“Anytime, love.” 

Fuck fuck fuck. The stars in Zira’s eyes made him melt like someone had just tripped and knocked a canteen full of holy water on him. Any time someone made the slightest kind gesture towards Aziraphale, he looked at them like they were the love of his life. A point he should've been jealous at, but that was just the angels nature. Soft and somewhat pure. Crowley nodded at him and bent his knees to press their lips together for a brief moment. When he pulled away he winked at the other, reveling in the pink that had tinged his cheeks.

“Big boss told me to keep an eye on you.Says you've been getting packages at all times of the night and that Gabe has been visiting. Should I be jealous? And—“ He paused to fall into a nearby chair and take a drink of tea. “Stop getting packages overnighted to you, fuckin’ idiot. Doesn't matter what the book is. I don't need demons eating my ass because you decided to get the next Wizard of what the fuck ever you want.”

“W-well. I just think they're neat.” A nervous drink of cocoa. “So much history and fantasy in every single cover. Humans really are phenomenal at the words they can write. Almost better than the big boss.” Zira laughed and wiped at his mouth with his pocket handkerchief.

“I think you're neat.” Crowley winked again, sticking his tongue out at the angel. “But I have to keep an eye on you. My own personal purgatory. God, how will I live?”

He set the teacup aside and stood, pulling Aziraphale in by the waist and holding his hand in his own. The gasp of air that came from his partners lips was enough for a single tear of blood to fall from his eyes.

“A personal purgatory, yes, I suppose. Spending time in the shop with me. Sleeping on the couch in the office, even though it creaks and makes your back hurt. Terribly, awful, horrendous purgatory.” 

Aziraphale grinned up at him and pressed his forehead into his chest a moment later, taking a strong inhale of the mans shirt.

“You smellin’ the hellfire? Or maybe the brimstone?”

“Can’t quite place it. Different than usual.”

“It’s probably my palms sweating from being so close to the man I hate with my entire being. Or my dick getting hard and you smelling the pheromones of a 6 millennia year old snake. You could be my snake charmer, hm?”

“You’re a fool.”

“A fool for you?”

Aziraphale didn't respond to that, just stifling a laugh into his shirt and squeezing his hand tighter.

Purgatory indeed.


End file.
